


egg

by katrinawritesthings



Category: SHINee
Genre: Brotp, Fantasy, M/M, taemin; eleven years old; saying fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: where jonghyun whines about his relationship problems to taem and taem is eleven and also jonghyun is a fairy with his rdd hair but like pinkJonghyun crawls up Taemin’s shirt until he reaches the chest pocket, and then kind of fits himself in there. He brings his arms up to use as a pillow and closes his eyes as he speaks again.tumblr





	egg

“Mmph. Ugh. Fuck. Shit--no, god-- _fuck_ \--” **  
**

“Okay, I mean, I was going to wait until you were settled, but, Taemin. You’ve been struggling for almost a full minute.”

Taemin pauses in his struggling to look for the voice; two seconds later, he regrets that decision as he tumbles out of the hammock and thuds into the grass of his backyard. His textbook falls out of his arm and the papers he stuffed lazily into it during class fall out, scatter over the lawn and flutter in the gentle wind.

“Shit,” he hisses, and lunges for them before they fly away and add to his list of missing history homework. He grabs one, two, three, four, five; then he frowns at them all in his hand. He knows he had another. Where’s his timeline? He sits back in the grass and looks around quickly, but before he starts to panic, it appears floating in front of his face.

“Here,” the voice that disturbed him says, and when Taemin takes the paper, it finally reveals the source.

“Hi, Jonghyun,” he says, taking his eyes away from the fairy to stack all of his papers together the right way. He grabs his book from the ground, too, and turns to continue his struggling into the hammock. This time, Jonghyun holds one end steady for him and it’s much easier to wiggle himself steady. When he’s done, Jonghyun flutters to stand on his stomach and lean against his thigh with an amused little smirk.

“That was a smooth fall,” he says, and Taemin huffs.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, reaching to rub his finger over Jonghyun’s head and mess up his pretty pink and red hair. Jonghyun whines, ducking out from under him and flying up to his knee instead.

“Rude,” he pouts, running his fingers through it to fix it. He flicks his pale pink bangs around, smooths the burgundy at the back, fluffs up the berry in the middle. Then he sits down with crossed legs and a soft smile, one that Taemin has to return in spite of his grumpy mood. He’s missed his friend all day.

“You look cute,” he says, gently poking Jonghyun’s little hoodie this time. It’s a soft pale pink to match his darker pink skinnies and tiny red sandals, his glittery red wings and colorful hair. Taemin thinks it’s baggier than usual, too, which just makes his little fairy friend look even smaller. He likes it. Jonghyun beams back, wings fluttering in that way that do when he’s flattered.

“Thanks,” he smiles. “How was school?” he asks then, nodding towards the book in Taemin’s arm. Taemin sighs, scowling at it. Ew.

“Stressful,” he mumbles. “Everything is so hard. Have I told you how hard--”

“Seventh grade is?” Jonghyun asks, cutting him off with his chin propped up in his hand. “Yes. Many times.” His other hand pats Taemin’s knee soothingly. Taemin sighs again and opens his book to where he’s supposed to be reading.

“It’s sooo stressful,” he whines. “Did I tell you I have six classes? Different ones? In different rooms?” It’s been three months and he still can’t believe it. It’s so much. So different from sixth grade.

“Mmhmm,” Jonghyun hums.

“And I miss recess,” Taemin whines. “Did I tell you about how there’s no more recess?”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says. He wiggles to his stomach on Taemin’s knee and kicks his feet up in the air. “I miss your recess stories,” he pouts. Taemin pouts too. He misses having a recess to get stories from. He used to be able to come home every day and tell Jonghyun about climbing on the jungle gym, or winning at four-square, or dancing behind the library. He can’t do any of that now. Now all of his stories are about sitting around a picnic table under a tree at lunch with some of his human friends. The tree doesn’t even have any cool fairies guarding it for him to be secret friends with.

“It’s fun being able to take the bus and see you out here before my parents get home, though,” Taemin says. That’s a plus. Before, his dad would pick him up from school and he wasn’t allowed to do his work outside, and they would always tell him that there were no such things as fairies. It’s nice that he can spend some time out here every weekday with no worries instead of only speaking to Jonghyun in hushed whispers through his bedroom window. Now all he has to do is come sit by the red sweet peas that Jonghyun protects for him to come out. Jonghyun doesn’t reply but when Taemin looks up from his book, he sees that the little fairy is smiling wide and nodding in agreement. He smiles too before he looks back to his book and resigns himself to an hour of reading.

Ten minutes in, he sighs and lets his head loll back on his shoulder. This is so boring.

“How are your boyfriends?” he asks, wiggling his knee just a tiny bit to get Jonghyun’s attention. Jonghyun looks up, sighs, rolls to his back and pouts at Taemin upside-down.

“Do we have to talk about them?” he asks. “They’re being poops.”

“All three of them?” Taemin asks. This is already more interesting than the french revolution. He lays his hand palm up in front of his knee and Jonghyun slips onto it with another sigh. Taemin tugs him close and lets him lie on his chest instead. Jonghyun told him one time that his heartbeat sounded more like the earth’s pulse than any other human he’s met in the last fifty years. He doesn’t even know what that means but he’s proud of it. Jonghyun curls up and grabs for Taemin’s finger when he starts to move his hand away, so Taemin lets him hold it close like a pillow.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Minho doesn’t like how I’ve been studying more magic and healing stuff on my own. He says I keep changing without telling him.” Jonghyun tugs Taemin’s finger even closer and throws one of his legs over it. “And I’m like, ‘sorry, I didn’t know I had to keep you updated on every detail of my life,’ and he’s like, ‘no, I just want you to talk to us before you do things,’ and I’m like, ‘ _sorry, I didn’t know I had to keep you updated on every detail of my life,’_ because that’s literally what he’s asking me to do, like, I’m studying this just as a hobby, but apparently I’m not allowed to spend my free time how I like without getting permission first, and--” He takes a sharp breath and buries his face in the pad of Taemin’s finger. Taemin can just barely feel his tiny hands clenching harder and lifts his other hand to gently pet Jonghyun’s hair.

“Minho is…,” he says. “He protects… the marigolds?” he asks. “Sorry,” he says when Jonghyun peeks up at him. “You know I’m bad at names.” He shrugs; Jonghyun sighs and nuzzles his cheek against his finger.

“He protects the narcissuses,” he says. Taemin nods. Right, he remembers. “And the marigold protector is Kibum,” Jonghyun goes on. “And the holly is--”

“Jinki,” Taemin says, smiling proudly when Jonghyun nods. He remembered one. That’s good. This would probably be easier if he met them all, but Jonghyun says the flower guardians hardly ever reveal themselves to humans. Taemin just has to make do with what Jonghyun tells him about the other three.

“Jinki,” Jonghyun repeats. He scoffs. “He agrees with Minho. _‘It would be nice if you told us so we didn’t have to worry,_ ’” he grumbles, using a voice that Taemin assumes to be a bad imitation of his second boyfriend. “Like I’m gonna hurt myself learning how to heal a bitten leaf.” He sighs another time. He grabs for Taemin’s other hand and pulls it until it’s hovering just above him. “Squish me, a little bit,” he mumbles. Taemin obliges, putting just a tiny bit of pressure on his fairy friend until Jonghyun hums in contentment. Taemin presses one finger right on Jonghyun’s lower back and moves it in gentle circles because he’s figured out that it makes his wings flutter in joy if he does it just right. He gets a few twitches from their glittery red this time and smiles to himself. That’s pretty good. After a minute, Taemin takes his hand away and goes back to petting Jonghyun’s hair.

“What about Kibum?” he asks quietly. The tiny, tiny smile that was sitting on Jonghyun’s lips during his tiny massage slides away at the mention of his third boyfriend. Taemin feels kind of guilty, but not more than he feels curious, so. Oh well. Jonghyun crawls up Taemin’s shirt until he reaches the chest pocket, and then kind of fits himself in there. He brings his arms up to use as a pillow and closes his eyes as he speaks again.

“He won’t pick a side,” he mumbles. “He’s always so indecisive. It pisses me off sometimes. I know he can’t help it, but. Sometimes the forced neutrality gets annoying.” He shakes his head and snuggles more into Taemin’s pocket until just his hair is peeping out. Taemin hums in thought. He doesn’t exactly know what “neutrality” means. He doesn’t feel like asking, though. He doesn’t really need to know to know that there’s a problem.

“Is magic… dangerous?” he asks. Jonghyun’s little head shakes in his pocket.

“Not the kind I’m learning,” he says. Taemin puffs up his lips. Hmm.

“Do they know what kind you’re doing?” he asks next. If Jonghyun isn’t telling them he’s just learning safe magic then--

“Yeah,” Jonghyun sighs. “I told them when they asked but they still? Got upset.” He wiggles even deeper into Taemin’s pocket so Taemin can’t see him at all anymore. Taemin puffs up his lips, thinking.

“Have you asked--”

“Taem,” Jonghyun’s voice says, small and muffled. “Can we not talk about it?” Taemin feels a tiny, tiny poke on his chest. He pouts but brings his hand up pap his pocket as gently as possible in apology.

“Okay,” he says. Jonghyun makes a little noise when he moves his hand away, so he rests it over the pocket instead so Jonghyun can be squished again. It’s quiet then, except for the rustle of the plants around him and the cars in the distance. Taemin opens his book with his free hand and sighs as he continues his reading from before. When he takes the hand over Jonghyun away to write down some notes, Jonghyun doesn’t complain. His eyes are closed, his lips relaxed; Taemin thinks he’s fallen asleep. He hums, adjusting his shirt so the pocket lies more over his heart.

“Relationships seem complicated,” he mumbles to himself. All this conflict and problems and being upset and having to come to the one person that will probably never meet your partners just to complain about them and be sad about it. He’s not looking forward to it. Jonghyun scrunches his face, nose wrinkling and eyebrows furrowing; when Taemin stops adjusting his shirt, he cracks his eyes open to peer up at him.

“Did you say something?” he asks. Taemin hesitates, then gently pets Jonghyun’s bangs out of his face.

“Just,” he says. “You figure out how dating is supposed to work now so when I try it in a few years you can give me actual advice.” He shrugs. Just because he can’t give Jonghyun help now doesn’t mean he has to suffer later. Jonghyun blinks at him, then laughs softly, muffling it into Taemin’s shirt.

“It’s been thirty years of not knowing how this works out and I don’t think another few is really going to make a difference, but, sure,” he says. “If you tell your dad to stop mixing that weird blue stuff into the watering can he uses on my flowers.”

“I _did_ tell him, I told you,” Taemin pouts. “I didn’t even say that you told me because I knew he would tell me to stop believing in fairies. I told him google told me he needed to just use regular water without fertilizer but he wouldn’t listen.” He pouts more because he really did try and he feels bad about it not working. Jonghyun sighs, reaches out of his pocket to pat his hand gently, and shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he mumbles. “It’s just… inconvenient. I can figure it out.” He closes his eyes again and Taemin hums, still guilty. Then he sighs and looks back to his books. He’s not gonna finish this today. He already knows it. It’s Friday anyway; he has the whole weekend to do it all. Closing the book, he lowers it gently on top of his bag in the grass, then wiggles in the hammock to get more comfortable. He’ll just take a little nap before his brother gets home. All of his classes make him so tired.

He settles with one hand behind his head and the other over his chest pocket, feeling both his breathing and Jonghyun’s tiny breathing against his skin. The double movement feels relaxing somehow, and he sighs contentedly as he lets his eyes close. It’s a few minutes after that that Jonghyun speaks up again.

“Hey… Taem?” he asks. Taemin almost thinks he imagined his voice in the wind, but he feels a tiny hand pap his chest. He doesn’t open his eyes when he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Jonghyun rubs his hand over Taemin’s shirt before curling it back into himself. Taemin’s brows furrow, confused.

“For what?” he asks.

“For just… being here,” Jonghyun says. “You’re good. A good human.”

“Oh,” Taemin says. “Thanks.” He doesn’t really know what that means. And he’s sure that whatever answer he comes up with will be different from Jonghyun’s actual fairy reasoning. He would ask how exactly he’s a good human, but he doesn’t really feel like talking right now. He doesn’t think Jonghyun really feels like elaborating either. He decides to just take the compliment as it is and maybe ask later. For now, he just wiggles in the hammock until it sways slowly, letting it lull him to sleep.


End file.
